


Stop Looking at Me

by Monochromehobo



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 00:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16902237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monochromehobo/pseuds/Monochromehobo
Summary: She always noticed the way he was looking at her, but maybe she can finally figure out how she feels about it.





	Stop Looking at Me

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from an anon on tumblr. Cross posted there on my blog of the same name. Can be read as reader or pretty much any Z Nation gal you'd wanna pair with 10k.

I peeled the lid back on a can of soup, pouring it into the pot. Doc handed me two open cans of green beans to pour in. I bent down, lighting a fire under our makeshift stove. I watched the fire crackle to life as I sat down. I caught 10k’s eye across the fire. He was always looking at me. Every time I looked in his direction he was already looking at me. We’d meet eyes and he’d be giving me that look, and he always darted his tongue out across his bottom lip as he looked away. We didn’t know each other well so It’s not like I could just come out and confront him about it. I looked back down at the ground, wrapping my hands around my knees. He probably just wants something from me.

>>

I rolled over, blinking against the light. I pulled the blanket up over my chest, glancing around, taking a quick head count. Warren smiled at me; she was cleaning her gun. It must have been early because it looked like she was the first one up besides 10k. He had taken the last watch shift. I peaked over my shoulder at him; he was already looking. Like always. Do I think that's creepy? I can't tell. I can never tell what he's thinking. Sometimes I don't think I want to know. Maybe that would make it weirder.

I pushed the blanket down, stretching out until my shoulders gave a satisfying pop. I looked to the left again, and there he was. Again. Every time. That same look. No matter how many times I see it I'm still not sure how to feel about it. I think I find it reassuring. One of the few constants in a sea of variables. Maybe I should try to talk to him more.

Standing up, I brushed the dirt off my pants and walked towards 10k. I locked eyes with him as I sat down next to him in the truck bed.

We sat in comfortable silence cleaning our guns, side by side, until everyone was up and ready to get moving for the day. Eventually Warren and the others hopped into the truck while 10k and I stayed in the back as we began our drive for the day. We passed through several towns before I looked over at him again. And he was looking at me. Always looking. I narrowed my eyes as I spoke low, directly to him. "You're staring." Minutes passed without an answer. "You're always staring." I waited several more moments without receiving an answer. I spoke again this time looking away from him, "You know... I think you should stop looking at me like that or else I might start to think you actually like me."

"And? What if that's what I want you to think?" I looked at him again. This time he wasn't looking at me already, instead his gaze rested off to the side.

"That you like me? You don't even know me."

"And yet every time I look at you you're already looking at me. I think you stare as much as I do." He met my gaze once more with a different look, this one much more intense, eyebrows knitted together and eyes scrunched up at the corners. "You know I think you should stop staring at me like that. Or else I might start to think you actually like me," a goofy smile broke out across his face as he spoke, "So maybe we should get to know each other, because you'd be right to think I actually like you."

"Maybe we should."


End file.
